


When Love and Time Collide

by UisceOneLove



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Mickey is a Time Traveler, Still gets some fluff, Time Travel, Time Traveling Mickey Milkovich, stubborn boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29518614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UisceOneLove/pseuds/UisceOneLove
Summary: Ian can sometimes be too inquisitive for Mickey's liking. Why can't he leave shit well enough alone and enjoy a good night?
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56
Collections: Angst and Hurt/Comfort Prompts





	When Love and Time Collide

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [27twinsister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/27twinsister/pseuds/27twinsister) in the [angstandhcprompts](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/angstandhcprompts) collection. 



> This thing is only rated Teen because of the language, dammit.

"You've never told me when your birthday is."

Mickey side-eyed the redhead next to him while he took a pull from the bottle in his hand. The beer's weak, nothing like the stuff from home, but it coats his tongue well enough and gives him the lax response he was looking for. 

"And?" he responded, pushing disinterest.

Ian leaned in closer, his arm pushing a solid wall of heat where it pressed right against Mickey's. "And, we've been dating for two years. I'd like to be able to celebrate your fuckin birthday, Mick."

The raven-haired boy shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it?" Ian's brows shot up. "It's your  _ birthday _ . That's a big deal, of course, I'm gonna worry about it."

Mickey knew where the fuck this was going and he wanted no part in it. "Well it's not to me," he said flatly and pushed away from the wall of Ian's living room to wander outside. The Gallagher clan was used to anyone and everyone starting intense conversations in front of their prying eyes but Mickey couldn't go there with this. 

"Mickey!"

He took the front steps quickly and didn't stop until he reached the wired fence. There, he gulped down the rest of his beer and tossed the bottle aside, getting a gratifying smash as it shattered. Then, he pulled out the pack of cigarettes from his back pocket as he heard Ian stumbling down after him.

"Jesus Christ, Mickey."

"Not into the religious shit, Gallagher," Mickey said, cigarette bouncing between his lips. He flicked the match aflame and lit up, Ian imposing by taking one from the pack and stealing the lighter. 

They both stood there, burning through their smokes, while Ian had a critical eye all over him. Mickey was prepared for it. Been stupidly hoping it wouldn't come up but humans are curious creatures who can't help themselves. It wasn't as if Mickey held back when he arrived and spotted the redhead for the first time in the convenience store. 

"You know everything about me, Mickey," Ian said, arms splayed in a wide gesture to make his point, "I don't hide shit from you. I did my best before not to push because I thought it was sensitive or hard to talk about or whatever and that you'd tell me once you were comfortable. I don't even know where you're from." 

Mickey rubbed his thumb against the corner of his mouth. "It's not that fuckin simple, all right?" 

"Nothing is simple with you." Ian crossed his arms, flicking his rapidly diminished cigarettes away. 

"Then why would you both fuckin asking?" Micky demanded.

"Because that's what you do when you love someone!" Ian exclaimed, staring at him like he's the idiot.

And the thing was that Mickey didn't see it as a big deal. There was no point in it being some big ass deal when he's been alive for longer than human civilization existed. 

But then you have a dumbass like Ian Gallagher who comes along and has a family and friends and cares about the personal shit, so then it becomes a big deal. 

Mickey scrubbed his lip and stomped the butt of his cigarette underneath his shoe. "You know I hate it when you say that."

"Saying it doesn't stop the words from being true, Mick," Ian snapped. "And I know you love me too. That's why you told me what you are. So tell me  _ who _ you are."

Telling Ian was the biggest mistake and the most relieving decision Mickey ever made. Because this asshole turned him into a fucking softie. Being a soft-hearted time/space/dimensional traveler was not supposed to be a fucking thing. Not for him. He would punch the ginger in his fucking teeth again if it'd make the shit go away but they've already proven that it won't.

" _ I don't know, all right? _ Will you stop asking me now?"

Ian stared at him, open-mouthed and wide-eyed while Mickey scrubbed his fingers through his dark hair. "What do you mean you don't know?" he responded, the words coming out slowly like he had to take the special care of thinking them over first. Or being a redhead made it hard to compute. Who fucking knew? 

"What do you think I mean?" Mickey bit. 

"How do you not know who you are?" And Ian just--

When he pulls that sad face shit, it's just--

Can Gallagher just stop making his heart jump through hoops already? Mickey's going to be stuck with palpitations for the rest of time.

Which is for-fucking-ever.

The wind taken out of his sails, Mickey lugs it over to the steps and drops down on them. The old wood creaks underneath his weight but he's been shot at and beaten multiple times -- just in this time with the Gallaghers alone, don't get him started on the others -- so it was the extremely least of the brunet's concerns. 

"Look, Ian, it's pretty damn hard to keep track of a date of birth, or age, or place fo origin when all you've ever known about yourself is that you've been traveling," he said tiredly, his edges prickling.

Mickey had his head ducked down, pinching the bridge of his nose, so he only heard it when the sidewalk scraped beneath Ian's shoes as he got closer. He didn't look up when the guy sat down next to him, but he did when Ian went snatching up his hand. 

"You really don't know any of that?" Ian asked, the look on his face heartbreaking, and Mickey didn't do  _ heartbreaking _ okay?

He had to shrug it off because there was nothing else to do for it. "You don't think about it when you're busy exploring every timeline out there and world and universe. The only reason I've remembered where I am for the last two years has been because I'm with you." 

"Fuck, Mick," Ian breathed. 

Mickey shook his head and tried to tug his hand away to no avail. Sometimes it was like Ian had the strength and grip of a fucking octopus. "Don't do the pity or sympathy shit with me. I don't need it. It's not a big deal."

"Yes, it is. Everyone should have a home they remember, or a day to celebrate being born."

"I really think it's more that I just  _ exist _ instead of born."

"Can you not be an asshole for, like, five minutes? So that I can appreciate that you've been staying here for me?"

"Go for it, I just don't have an on-off switch for this shit." 

Ian half-heartedly glared at him. It was quickly replaced with one of those fucking mushy ass looks like Mickey wanted to hate but couldn't because, again, this guy human made him  _ soft _ , and the redhead grabbed the back of his head to brush their lips together. A small gesture that felt like it was Ian trying to ground Mickey to this place in time. 

"We can say that this is your home," Ian said, soft. "Whenever you're with me, it's home. And you can come back to it. Always."

Gallagher. Only fucking Ian Gallagher would spew some sappy shit like that and call it a promise. 

Mickey wasn't good with anchors. His kind wasn't supposed to be held down. Their purpose is to explore and record and experience. Love wasn't a goal, it was a side-effect that generally faded as their infatuations died with the passage of time. Mickey didn't want Ian to die. Theoretically, the bastard couldn't if Mickey visited over and over in the living times. 

So remembered this place was important. Mickey will add the dates of Ian's life to his skin like the other tattoos and remember to come back. 

He'll remember this home.

"I should kill you for being this big ass sap," Mickey told him, pushing against Ian's lips to accept Ian's rope. 

They embraced under the winter's blinking stars, their bodies sharing a heat that Mickey didn't search for from anyone else when the cold filled his bones. No one in his other trysts held a candle to the volume of light that existed within a Gallagher.

"Plan on giving me a birthday, too?" Mickey asked, just to be a dick, because he could.

Ian laughed, staying tethered so closely. "How about the day you found me?"

"Fuck you and your sappy shit, Ian," Mickey replied, but he could hear the  _ sap _ in his own voice. "Fine. That can be my birthday. But only between us. Got it?"

Ian slipped his hands under Mickey's shirt, making him jerk from the cold. "All of it can be between us," he promised. "I love you, Mickey."

Mickey grumbled but let the asshole rest their foreheads together. "Yeah, I fuckin love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are always super welcomed and appreciated!


End file.
